


Coda

by Perching_Owl



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Because I haven't even finished the game I'm pretty sure about that one, Caretaking, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, No Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 23:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16397048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perching_Owl/pseuds/Perching_Owl
Summary: After the cult is disbanded, an exhausted Alexios returns to Sparta in the hopes of setting things right.





	Coda

**Author's Note:**

  * For [obsidienne-pendraagon](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=obsidienne-pendraagon).



> This one is a thank-you for [OBSIDIENNE](http://obsidienne-pendraagon.tumblr.com/) for putting together the [absolutely fabulous romance guide](http://obsidienne-pendraagon.tumblr.com/post/178997689136/thaletas-romance-guide). I didn't expect to get a different response with the helmet and am so glad you saved me the heartbreak with the sidequest of the Socratic Method! So, thank you very much for that and to everyone else, please check out her art/video. They are awesome. 
> 
> Anyway, I wrote this one pretty close to after finishing the romance, which is probably why this is a bit on the fluffy side. Then again, we are talking about Thaletas laying out a flower path and Alexios being adoring of everything his boyfriend does.

Alexios is exhausted. Rain is beating down on him, wind making him shiver and the occasional lightning flickers across the sky. He has left the Adrestia, letting Barnabas take care of it in a bay close to Sparta. Perhaps he should feel worried about it, but he cannot feel anymore. The cult is gone, his family had been reunited albeit briefly and yet he doesn't feel anything but numbness. 

Another shiver wrecks him and he pulls his hood deeper into his face to shield himself from the elements. Slowing down as they reach Sparta, Phobos continues to trot along while Ikaros circles over him, screeching softly before turning west towards the outskirts and training grounds, leading the way. He doesn't need to tell Phobos to follow, who turns, jumping down a few steps. 

The small jump jars him harshly. Alexios grimaces. His side is hurting, a last parting gift from the cult. He presses a hand against his side, against the bandages. It comes back wet. But with this weather and the light he cannot make out if they are soaked by rainwater or by blood. The gash hasn't been healing well. Shifting he tries to elevate the pressure on his side. 

Phobos moves along. Rain continues to pelt down on him as he reaches the outskirts. He isn't sure if he is welcome. The last he has seen of Thaletas has been him grieving the loss of Kyra, angry and hurt, pain visible on his face. He had loved her dearly and- her death had been senseless, extreme. 

He should have controlled his anger, shouldn't have admonished her, shouldn't have told her she was being selfish. She shouldn't have died that way, throwing herself of a cliff. Taking a shaky breath, he tries to focus his thoughts elsewhere, towards his destination. He is close, that much he sees by the circling of Ikaros over one of the bigger houses on the outskirts, close to the training grounds. 

He wants to hold Thaletas again, have him close, kiss him. He has yearned for him, but back on Mykonos there had been the cult, their dark secrets and yet it had been simpler. He remembers fighting each other on Delos, on top of the ruins, pulling Thaletas up and kissing him, making love there. 

Maybe that will be all the good memories he will have of Thaletas. If Thaletas doesn't want him, he can understand that. But he wants to believe their emotions have been real, that they mean something and that Thaletas is going to want him. 

Phobos slows down. He swings off in front of the house, Ikaros is circling over. Landing on his feet makes him take a sharp breath in. Shivering he knocks on the door. He knows it is late, so perhaps no one will even answer, but the door swings open moments later, revealing a Spartan archer. 

'Is Thaletas in?'

The archer tilts his head, 'What is your business with him?' 

I was his lover, shoots through Alexios' head, I don't know if I still am, but I want to see him, I'm tired, please, just let me see him. Instead he settles for, 'I have a message for him. To deliver it to him personally.' 

The archer doesn't believe him, but he is let in the house, told to wait and that he does. Whereas earlier he has felt empty, now there is a storm inside of him, expanding from his stomach and tightening his throat. What if Thaletas didn't want to see him after Kyra? What if he had decided he was responsible for Kyra's death? What if- 

He hears footsteps coming down from the top floor. For some reason Alexios cannot find it in him to turn around, to face Thaletas. He wrings his hands, waiting, gaze focused on a stone figure of Apollo. Memories of Delos resurface, flashes of Thaletas sitting on the ground smiling, of them kissing, of spending the night together. 

'There is a message?' Thaletas' voice is firm, still sounds like honey and the apprehension of seeing him again is suddenly thrown in with the longing he feels for the other man. In this moment he wants nothing more than to see the man, to have him in his arms again. 

Alexios turns around. 

Thaletas is looking well if tired. He is wearing a simple tunic instead of his armour. His feet are clad in sandals though, the sword is still at his side and even if he isn't commanding troops right now, there is an air of authority in his stance and the shoulders. That drops away though when he sees the mercenary, his mouth parting, his expression surprised and soft, making him appear younger than he is, 'Alexios?' 

Alexios nods. 'It's been a while. I-' he averts his eyes, emotions still whirling inside of him. He presses on. 'I didn't know if you wanted to see me, especially after our farewell on Mykonos, but I wanted to tell you, it is done.' 

He trails off, glancing back at Thaletas, whose expression falls. But then Thaletas rushes over and arms close around him, pulling him close and Alexios cannot help himself but bring his own arms up and hold onto Thaletas. His eyes feel suspiciously wet, so he closes them, breathing in deeply the smell of leather, weapons oil and something that is unique to Thaletas. 

'It's over,' he whispers. 

Thaletas holds onto him and Alexios is suddenly not even sure if he is understanding what he is talking about. He tries to explain, 'The people Pordokles belonged to- the cult, they are gone and it's-' 

Thaletas breaks away from him, but his hands remain on Alexios' elbows. 'Let's talk later. You should get out of these clothes. They are drenched. Come with me.' His hand drops to Alexios' arm, which he doesn't feel through his vambraces. He wants to interlace their fingers, wants to hold onto this connection. 

It's similar for Thaletas, whose pauses and then reaches for his hand. He leads Alexios up the stairs and into a bedroom. 

'Sit. Start with taking off that armour. I get towels and blankets.' He puts a hand against the side of Alexios' face and leans forward. A soft kiss is pressed against his forehead. Then the hand and warmth is gone, Thaletas gives him a smile and then hurries off, first steps hesitant as if he doesn't want to, but then walks off quicker. 

Alexios starts with his weapons and puts them on the weapons stands. He strips all of them off, sword, staff, bow and at last his spear. Then he unfasten the clasps of his boots, a soft groan escaping him as he needs to bend forward to get them off. Sitting up with a grimace, he puts them aside. He starts with the vambraces then, carefully unlacing them and suddenly his hands are covered. 

He hasn't heard Thaletas come back, but he is there, kneeling in front of him. There is a bowl with water and a towel at his side, but for now he begins unlacing his vambraces, first the left, then the right with care. Both are put aside, then he continues with the coat thrown over Alexios' shoulders, folding it and putting that aside as well. Next comes the body armour. Thaletas reaches for the clasps with practice, undoes them blindly and then pulls it off. 

His eyes widen after he has put the armour aside, 'You are injured.' 

'It isn't-,' Alexios starts, but Thaletas makes a sharp movement with his hand, cutting him off. 

'Don't tell me this is nothing. When did this happen?' Thaletas stands up. His gaze wanders around until it falls on a leather pouch. He walks over to it, taking out some bandages. He kneels again in front of Alexios. 

'It was on the way out. I was nearly in the clear and then some mercenary tried to cleave me in two. Apparently he was hired by someone from the cult. Didn't get the message they weren't going to pay him anymore,' he tries to keep it light, but wince betrays him when Thaletas gets him out of the tunic he has been wearing underneath his armour and has started to peel back the bandages. 

The general grimaces when he sees the wound, 'Someone has looked at this, yes?'

'Yes. There isn't anything they could do though. Hippocrates says it's not healing well because the mind isn't willing,' Alexios' averts his eyes, the memory of the physician's unhappy face in his mind, telling him to take it easy, to take a break. 

Thaletas reaches out, putting a hand on his arm and running his thumb over his wrist, 'Well, you are in Sparta. You are home.' 

Alexios' eyes widen. Home is something he hasn't thought about in a long time. A place where he belongs. But home has not been a place for him in a very long time. It had been people. It had always been people for him. His mater and pater and Kassandra had been home. Marcus had been home at one point, just as Phoibe had been home as well, Barnabas and his bunch of misfits had been one too. Probably they still are. Thaletas is home. 

Thaletas' hand moves from his arm to the side of his face, brushing over his cheek before he returns to his task at hand. He folds the old bandages, setting them aside before he begins dressing the wound again. It is firm, neatly done. 

'You have done a lot of patching up, haven't you?' 

Thaletas throws him an annoyed look, 'Don't take that as an invitation to get more cut up. While broken, bloody and bruised is something we can definitely do, I prefer it to be on the training grounds by me on my terms and not by some jumped-up malaka send to kill you.' 

'Don't worry about me. I can look after myself,' Alexios tries to assure Thaletas. 

It's not working, judging by the glare Thaletas throws his injury. But then he sighs, his shoulders dropping. He reaches for a blanket and drops it over Alexios' shoulders, before reaching for a towel and begins to dry off Alexios, starting with his hair. He takes every one of the braids, carefully pressing the water from them. He brushes over Alexios' face, lingering at the scar on his forehead, the continuation of it on the cheek. 

Alexios closes his eyes at the soft touch, leaning into it. Thaletas indulges him, caressing his face, brushing a few strands of hair back. A soft kiss is placed on his forehead. Alexios tilts his head, another is placed on his nose and then another on his lips. He seeks to deepen it, but Thaletas doesn't indulge him, instead pulling away. 

'No, let's get you dry first. You are still feeling cold,' he whispers. 

Alexios opens his eyes. Thaletas is brushing over his eye brow, a soft smile gracing his lips. He puts the towel aside and continues drying him off with the blanket. He massages Alexios' shoulders, then continues with his chest and arms. Every movement is made with care. It makes Alexios' heart want to burst, to pull Thaletas closer and kiss him, to never let go. 

He wants to stay there, to fight with Thaletas, to fight for him. The wish is overwhelming, encompassing and he reaches for Thaletas again, pulling him into his arms and holds on. Thaletas seems to understand what he wants, moving close as well. He puts his arms around Alexios, cradling his head against his stomach. Fingers brush through Alexios' hair, careful and soothing. 

'How about we go to sleep? It's late already.' 

Alexios nods. Then adds, 'Don't want to move.' 

He feels Thaletas' stomach move with laughter. He presses Alexios closer for a moment, then pulls away, even though Alexios tries to hold onto him and growls. It makes Thaletas laugh even harder, but nevertheless he squirms away, grinning. He loosens the belt of his sword, walking over to the stand. Putting it away he turns, hands loosening his tunic and then stripping it off quickly. Alexios enjoys the show, especially when Thaletas turns around and he can see the muscles moves, his chest and the scars over them, some white, others fresher and still pinkish. He wants to trace those with his fingers, with his mouth. 

Thaletas moves over to him, puts his hands on his shoulder and pushes him back, 'Bed.' 

'Sleep,' he adds with more emphasis as Alexios leers at him. He lets himself drop nonetheless, moving up on the bed so he is lying properly and then pulling the blankets, holding them up invitingly. 

Alexios moves as well so he is lying beside Thaletas, grimacing as he moves, jarring his injuries. He slips in with Thaletos, closing his eyes and moving closer. Thaletas' arms close around him and pulling him closer. He is tucked against his chest and Alexios closes his eyes. He tells himself he is just going to close his eyes before he is going to kiss Thaletos, but he falls asleep before he can do anything more.

~*~

Alexios blinks against the early morning light. For the first time in weeks he feels well rested. He is on his back, head resting comfortably on the pillows. Pelts and blankets fend off the early morning chill, but what warms his heart, is Thaletas who is more or less lying on top of him. His head is resting on Alexios' shoulder, hair slightly tickling Alexios' chin. He has one arm thrown over Alexios' waist, thankfully having avoided the gash on his side.

Alexios leans forward and kisses Thaletas' temple, a wave of fondness washing over him. There is still some apprehension inside of him. They haven't talked yesterday, haven't talked about Mykonos. About that last night. 

He pulls Thaletas tighter. 

Thaletas grumbles. He moves tilting his head up, still half-asleep. He blinks before a smile begins to spread over his face. Alexios cannot help himself and brushes along Thaletas' hairline. 

Thaletas' smile broadens, 'I didn't dream it then.' 

'I could say the same,' Alexios says, bowing his head and resting it against Thaletas. He swallows, 'You said we should talk.' 

Thaletas shakes his head, 'Food first.' 

'Does that mean getting up?' Alexios asks. He still feels anxiousness at the thought of them talking, but Thaletas is calm and relaxed. He is still looking at Alexios, not moving, but smiling. 

After a moment he says, 'Alright food can wait.' 

'But talking shouldn't,' Alexios responds.

Thaletas sighs, 'Then let's do that.' 

Neither of them speaks though. Alexios isn't sure how he can phrase his question, how he can ask if he is allowed to stay, if Thaletas is letting him stay. At least for now. 

Perhaps Thaletas has seen the questions in his eyes because he sighs and presses a kiss against the corner of Alexios' mouth. 'I realise I shouldn't have been angry at you during our last night on Mykonos.'

'It was your right, you had just lost Kyra,' Alexios mutters. 

Thaletas sighs, 'I did. But in truth I had lost her long before that.' 

'I shouldn't have come between the two of you.' 

'But I did. I let you. The first moment I laid eyes on you. You fighting alongside of me - all glorious and bloody. I think she realised after the battle she was losing me. And then you revealed her heritage. No, it was good that you did it- but I think something inside of her- no, she realised she couldn't go on. Perhaps if things had been different. Maybe. But she is gone. And you are here.' 

Alexios nods. His throat feels tight. He runs a hand over Thaletas' back. His fingers brush his braid and he begins to twirl it around his fingers. 

Thaletas sighs, but it is of contentment at Alexios' fingers playing with his hair. He continues to speak, 'I shouldn't have been angry at you. I should have spent my last night with you. Seeking comfort in your in arms instead of the wine.' 

'No, you were grieving, I understand that. Besides it wouldn't have felt right you coming to me just after Kyra died.' 

'No, it wouldn't. But you are here now and I - I would like to know if-' Thaletas falls silent, his face twisting in frustration. Then his face hardens as if he is about to face the enemy. 'Are you staying?' 

Alexios feels a smile spread over his face, 'If you let me.' Then he hurries to add, smile dropping, 'I still am a Mysthios though and there is the Adrestia-' 

Thaletas grins, 'I didn't expect you to stay in my bed for the rest of your days. Though that would be a tempting offer.' 

Alexios laughs, he pulls Thaletas close and placing an exaggerated kiss on his forehead. As he pulls back he says, 'If you stay in here as well, I might think about.' 

Thaletas smiles, soft and warm. He leans up to give Alexios a proper kiss and as he draws away, he says, 'On a more serious note, I want you to live your life. But if you make Sparta your home- that would make me very happy.' 

Alexios brings his hand to Thaletas' face, his thumb brushing over his cheekbone. He loses himself for a moment in dark brown eyes, but then shakes his head. 'Sparta isn't my home. People are. You are.' 

He pulls Thaletas closer. This time they don't stop their kisses, continuing them until they move into something more passionate. Later when they lay panting beside each other, Alexios turns on his side, the injury at his side only a soft twinge and he whispers, 'I will always carry you in my heart.' 

Thaletas smiles, 'And you will always have a place in mine.' 

Then a smirk appears on his face, 'But how about you show me what you have learned fighting the world?' 

'Eager to lose, aren't you?' Alexios grins back. 

Thaletas entangles himself from him, but still smirking, 'Who says you are going to win this easily? Come one, let us eat first.' 

And with that he walks toward the door and Alexios follows him, happiness spreading inside of him, the injury not bothering him the slightest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading - kudos, comments and constructive critismn are appreciated and loved :) 
> 
> Anyway, I promise the next piece with these two will involve a bit more of the 'bruised, bloody and broken' variety. Though it might take a while because of real life.


End file.
